The Trouble With Emma. Katie Oliver
14
“I am going to take a heroine whom no one but myself will much like.”
—Jane Austen, Emma
“Miss Bennet! Miss Bennet! You’ll never guess what I’ve just heard!”
Emma Bennet glanced up from her crossword puzzle. Martine Davies, the local girl whose Monday, Wednesday, and Friday visits kept the interior of Litchfield Manor more or less tidy, burst into the kitchen hugging two grocery sacks to her chest and slid them down her hips to the table. Her cheeks were pink with excitement and her dark eyes sparkled.
“Don’t tell me,” Emma said. “You’ve just won the EuroMillions and you’re turning in your notice.”
“I wish. Not that I mind tidying up and doing the weekly shop for you and your dad,” she added hastily. “But if I won a million pounds –?” She grinned. “I’d be gone like a shot.”
“Well, at least you’re honest.” Emma gave her a brief smile and returned to her puzzle.
Martine began pulling groceries out of the sacks – tinned tomatoes, a carton of ice cream, a punnet of raspberries, boxes of Weetabix and Coco Shreddies – and set them on the table. “Wouldn’t it be something, though,” she mused, “to win pots and pots of money, and never have to work again?” She sighed at the pleasure such a prospect brought.
“With money comes responsibility. You need to manage it properly and make it work for you.”
“I wouldn’t know how,” Martine said, and gave a shrug. “I’ve never had two pennies to rub together, myself.” She opened the refrigerator and put the raspberries and ice cream away. “And I reckon I never will…unless I find a rich bloke and convince him to marry me.” She laughed at the absurdity of that particular notion.
“It could happen. Anything’s possible.”
Martine shook her head firmly. “Where would I meet someone like that – in the grocer’s? Havin’ my hair done at Miss Bates’s Beauty Salon?” She snorted. “Not likely.”
Emma studied the girl’s face. With her high, round cheeks, perpetual smile, and glossy dark hair – scraped back now into a ponytail – Martine was pretty in an open, uncomplicated way.
With